


My Own Reality

by calamityjones



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Sex, Art School, Bisexual Character, Blow Jobs, Bottom Will Graham, Clubbing, College Student Will Graham, Dream Sex, Drug Use, F/M, Fluid Sexuality, Gay, Grammar Porn, Gratuitous Smut, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is Not a Cannibal, Hedonism, Horny Will Graham, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Pansexual Character, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom Will Graham, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Professor Hannibal Lecter, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, Student Will Graham, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Hannibal Lecter, Unhealthy Relationships, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:33:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calamityjones/pseuds/calamityjones
Summary: Hannibal Lecter is an esteemed professor and portraiture artist, who rarely takes on subjects. However, when Will Graham strolls into his classroom, he is unequivocally entranced. He takes Will on as a model, and they find that their relationship becomes much more than initially intended.
Relationships: Alana Bloom & Beverly Katz, Alana Bloom/Will Graham, Will Graham & Beverly Katz, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 17
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

If Hannibal could be characterized by a single word, it would be hedonism. You could catch it in the glimmer of his cold gaze, or the curve of his rare smiles, but only if you knew him well. 

He was an esteemed professor at an esteemed University, geared towards the fine arts. He was world renowned for his haunting portraiture, however his works were few and far between, as he rarely found a worthy subject.

It was the beginning of a new semester, and he was tasked with frightening tentative freshmen into dropping their illustrative careers if they couldn’t keep up with him. He found this irritating, yet amusing all the same. He opted to sit casually at his desk and observe the incoming freshman, who all regarded him with abject terror. This pleased him. He enjoyed being the subject of awe. There were thirty-five eager students in his room, the last of which being the only one to catch his eye. He was relatively small in stature, in spite of his broad shoulders and chest. Hannibal estimated that he was just under six feet tall, however. He was bound with strong, thick muscle-- it protruded through his modest turtleneck, and in spite of his size and serious demeanor, there appeared to be an unmistakable shyness in his eyes.

He prepared his easel much like the other students, deftly weaving through the crowd. Once the class was fully settled, Hannibal laced his fingers together, and pursed his lips, preparing to speak. 

“Good morning, class,” he drawled coolly, garnering the rapt attention of his students. The boy he found himself taken with gazed out at him with large, eager blue eyes. They were framed by thick, dark lashes, which nearly brushed over his full cheekbones. He seemed nearly elfish, in some respects. There was a hardness to his gaze, and yet a tenderness all the same.

“Welcome to Introduction to Portraiture. I’m sure you’ve heard plenty of rumors about my class, that it is intended to weed out the weaker among you. However, I assure you that you should not be concerned-- that is, if you are not weak.”

Hannibal matched the boy’s gaze, which hardened in response to Hannibal’s remarks. The corners of his lips flicked up in a borderline sadistic grin. He pushed himself to a standing position and strolled over to examine his students. “Today, we will begin with the elementary structure of the face,” he gestured to the center of the room, where a pretty young college student sat, earning an extra few dollars by modeling for the University. “This will act as an introduction, of sorts, to your aesthetic choices. I will be examining and critiquing your work throughout the duration of the class-- we wouldn’t want to insult our beautiful model here, now would we?” This earned a quiet chuckle from the class, and an adoring beam from the model, who seemed to have taken a liking to Hannibal.

“You have two and a half hours. I want a likeness, however, no details. I want to be able to tell that it’s her that you’re drawing simply from how her face is structured.”

The students began sketching, though, Hannibal had his eyes focused on the boy. His eyes were locked on the model, as his large hands worked deftly on his easel. They seemed two separate entities, and he didn’t pause to look down once. After some time spent staring, Hannibal opted to introduce himself to various students, commenting clipped words on their works, and learning their names.

When he finally came to the boy, he simply chose to stand behind him and watch him work. He caught a whiff of the young man’s unfortunate aftershave, it was abrasive, and smelled of harsh chemicals. In spite of his rather regrettable scent, he had managed to construct among the most impressive portraits Hannibal had seen in his years as a professor. His eyes boring into the boy’s back didn’t appear to bother him, nor deter him from his work.

“May I ask your name?” Hannibal purred, placing a hand between his shoulder blades.

“Will,” he responded curtly, not tearing his eyes from the model. He didn’t ask what Hannibal thought of his work, nor pay him much mind at all. He simply focused on his task.

“I’d like for you to see me after class,” Hannibal murmured, before slipping away, not waiting for a response. He returned to his desk, rapturously attentive to Will. He watched the way his back flexed and twitched as he moved his arm about the canvas, the way in nearly two hours, he never stopped working. Eventually, the timer rang, and class was over. The model sprung up and meandered over to Hannibal’s desk in order to make idle conversation with him. He paid her no mind. Finally, she, along with the majority of the class, left, leaving him and Will alone in the room. He approached, nearly timid, were he not so imposing.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” Will inquired, his voice low and gruff, yet inquisitive all the same. Hannibal reclined in his chair, a smirk creeping over his lips. “Have you ever modeled before?” Will’s eyes widened slightly, as though he was taken aback by this question, though, the rest of his features remained stoic.

“No, Professor, I haven’t. Why?”

Will, it appeared, was a man of few words. Hannibal didn’t particularly mind.

“I was wondering if you would model a portrait for me.”

Will blinked, his brow furrowing, his shock now fully apparent on his face, which nearly caused Hannibal to laugh. “You want to do a portrait of me, Professor?” he stumbled over his words, confused.

“Yes. Is that so shocking?”

"All due respect, Professor, yes. You don't accept models very often, and I'm not really sure why you'd chose me," Will tightened his hold of his sketchbook slightly.

“I find you striking, Will. Not to mention, your own work is phenomenal. Would you like to come to my home this Friday evening, so that we can become better acquainted, and I can do some preliminary sketches? Feel no pressure to say yes, it won’t affect your grade if you don’t,” Hannibal offered a slight grin. 

“Could I have some time to think about it?"

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Of course. Let me know by the end of next class,” he purred, and Will nodded curtly in response.

“Thank you, Professor.” 

~

“What did Professor Evil want with you?” a small but powerful voice quipped from behind Will. He turned to face its source, and found a slight, cheerful Asian girl. 

“Professor Evil?” Will inquired, quirking an eyebrow. The girl smiled brightly, and picked up her pace to catch up with Will   
  
“You know, blondie from intro to portraits. His whole scary schtick? It’s kinda funny, honestly,” she chirped. “I hope you don’t mind me asking. I’m Beverly, by the way.” 

Will extended his hand towards her, enveloping it in a firm shake, “I’m Will. He wanted me to model for him.”

Beverly balked, stopping dead in her tracks, “Woah, he wanted to do a portrait of you? He never does those. Ever. I mean, I get it, you’re gorgeous, but still. Damn.”

“Oh, uh-” Will stammered, again gnawing at his lower lip anxiously. He was rather apprehensive about making friends, as he’d always been the solitary type. Beverly had seemed nice, though, she may have just been attracted to him. He was upset that he might have lost a prospective friendship, and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“Calm down,” she laughed, and nudged him with her shoulder, “Just take the compliment.” 

Will rubbed his forehead, a rare smile spreading across his lips, “Thank you.” 

“Anyways, if you’d like to practice portraits some time, let me know. I’d be happy to be your partner.” 

“That sounds nice,” Will smiled slightly as they parted ways. 

The pair wound up getting an early morning coffee prior to their next class. After both ordering a straight black coffee, they sat themselves down, and Will found himself thankful for Beverly’s chatty nature. 

“So, have you decided whether or not you’re gonna model for Professor Lecter?” Beverly grinned, wiggling her eyebrows villainously. Will shrugged, and took a ginger sip of his scalding drink.

“I don’t know. It’s an amazing opportunity, but I don’t know if it’s right for me.” 

“You want to be seen as an artist, not a model,” Beverly concluded for him, taking a long drink of her coffee, maintaining eye contact all the while. Will nodded curtly, the words having been stolen from his lips. 

“I, for one, think it’s phenomenal exposure, and if people find your work through him, more power to you. I say go for it,” Beverly said, tossing her cup into the trashcan expertly. Will nodded slowly, 

“I think you’re right.”

“Plus,” Beverly winked, “If you’re into guys... as much of a dick as he is, he’s pretty hot. You can have a nice little Titanic moment for yourself.” 

Will raised his eyebrows, and offered a rare smirk, “You know, you seem more excited for me than I am.”

“That’s just how it is sometimes,” Beverly shrugged, “Friends support friends, even if I am a bit jealous." 

“Fair,” Will conceded, and they headed to class. 

He could feel his professor’s eyes on him throughout the entirety of the class as he slunk around like a cat, examining his students’ works. This week, they were to pick a feature, and focus on it. Will chose the model's cheekbone to jaw line, and worked on the supple and harsh lines, and differentiated the two. He focused on creating the shadows and highlights properly in order to form the model’s features. 

“Beautiful,” Hannibal murmured, placing his hand on Will’s muscle bound arm, causing him to startle slightly. Will blinked, before nodding slightly.

“Thank you, Professor Lecter,” he whispered, and the professor left him, trailing his fingers along Will’s arm as he went. Will felt chills run down his spine, frightened and yet intrigued. Beverly caught his eye, and gave him an exaggerated wink. He rolled his eyes, and smiled to himself, though a slight blush crept over his cheeks as he felt his professor glancing at him.

Class ended, and the moment he’d been dreading, if not anticipating, dawned on him as he was once again summoned to Hannibal’s desk. Hannibal laced his fingers together, and rested his chin, smiling warmly up at Will. “Have you given any thought to my proposal? You would be utterly immaculate for an upcoming exhibition.” Will exhaled, nervous, and nodded.

“Yes, Professor. I think I’d like to model for you, even though I don’t really have any experience. Nobody’s ever asked me to model for them before. I’m not the most likely candidate,” he looked away, blushing. Hannibal stood, and tilted Will’s chin up.

“I think everyone is just so intimidated by you that they can’t see your beauty,” he mumbled softly, before slipping a small card into Will’s pocket, containing his phone number and address. “I work from a studio within my own home, come tonight at 9:00. I’d like to get to know you better over dinner, as is customary with my models. You can’t capture a portrait without capturing the essence of the person.” 

Will swallowed thickly, and nodded. His heart hammered quickly in his chest, as he muttered a quick, “Thank you, Professor,” before hurrying out of the room. 

He shut the door rather loudly behind him, and took a moment to regain his composure, until he felt a small finger jab his deltoid. “Hey. How did it go?” Beverly grinned up at him.

“Uh- I don’t know. I can’t tell if he’s propositioning me, or if he’s just interested in me as a subject.” 

“Well, which would you prefer?” 

“I really don’t know,” Will shook his head, his eyes wide and bewildered, “But I’m going to his house for dinner.” 

“I love that for you,” Beverly sighed, “Your life is like trashy fan fiction, how beautiful. I can help you get ready, if you’d like. I have an eye for outfits.”

“I’d like that,” Will smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! This is the first time I've published a fanfiction (sorry, I have no idea how to indent, this website is not very intuitive.) I hope y'all like it, and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will agrees to model for Hannibal, and meets him at his house that night.

Later in the evening, Will found himself fidgeting with his hair, and anxiously pawing through his closet. Beverly sat on the squeaky bed of his dorm room and played with her phone, making occasional comments about how the walls could use some more decoration. He combed his fingers through his dark hair, but locks continued to fall across his forehead. “Fuck,” he mumbled, and straightened his shirt again. He spun around to face Beverly, and she raised her eyebrows at him, amused.

  
“Do I look okay? Is this too formal? My hair is so fucked up, what do I do?”

Beverly laughed a bit, before springing to her feet, “Sit down, you’re too tall.”

“That’s probably the first time I’ve ever received that complaint,” Will laughed in spite of himself.

  
“You’re gonna be just fine,” Beverly reassured him, tugging and fluffing his hair as needed, “A nice suit is never a problem, and so what if you over dress? It’s not the end of the world.” She fiddled with his hair, quaffing it with a small amount of hairspray. “You look magnificent. I can see why he picked you.” Will sighed and stood to look in the mirror. The dark blue fabric of his suit hugged his shoulders tightly, and he shrugged self consciously. In the harsh light of the dorm, his features looked too severe, almost cruel. His nose was crooked, his cheekbones far too sharp. He pinched his chin, wondering if he should lose weight. He suddenly found his pores appalling, and his eyes far too large.

  
“I can’t,” he sighed, defeated, “Maybe I should call and cancel.”

  
“While I’d like to have you all to myself, seeing as you’re my only friend here, there’s no way in hell I’m letting that happen. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. At the very least, you get to know our hard ass professor better, which can’t hurt your grades. You know, unless you pull some dumb shit, but you don’t seem like the type to do that. Now get that cute butt in your car and over to his house, you’re gonna be late if you keep picking yourself apart in the mirror.”

  
He offered her one more long, anxious stare, before nodding in compliance. “Yes, ma’am,” he sulked, picking his keys and wallet up off of his desk.

  
“I expect a call with full details tonight!” Beverly called after him, giggling to herself.

  
Will gritted his teeth, and shut the door behind him. He clambered into his car, and drove to the other side of town, to a shockingly immense house. It was modern architecture, the sort of squarish home with lots of open space and windows. It was gorgeous, and soft light emanated from within. He timidly embarked up the steps, and rapped his fist three times against the door, producing a resounding knocking noise. Shit, he winced. He heart footsteps approach, and suddenly, the door swung open.

  
Will’s heart caught in his throat. Hannibal was out of his usual suit, and wore a simple white button down, with the top few notches unbuttoned. Will found himself staring at the distinct cleft between his two pectoral muscles, down to his neat black dress pants, lingering on the way they hugged his hips.

  
“Uh- Professor, thank you so much for having me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Will stumbled over his words, progressively collecting himself from his state of shock. He righted his posture, and regained his composure. Hannibal gestured for him to enter, and he obliged.

  
He was met with a beautiful, candle lit dining room, boasting a delicate centerpiece composed of Asters and pomegranates. They sipped red wine and ate oysters masterfully prepared by Hannibal as opera lilted in the background.

  
“So, tell me about yourself,” Hannibal crooned, savoring his words, “How did you come to find yourself at the University?” Hannibal leaned forward, eager to listen. Will dabbed his mouth gently with his napkin before beginning.

  
“Honestly, Professor, I’ve had an interest in art my entire life. I was going to pursue other things, but when I learned that you would be teaching, I figured I would apply. I find your works haunting. I submitted my shabby portfolio, and I was accepted. Seeing as it’s one of the best art schools in the world, I opted to go.”

  
Hannibal watched the way Will’s brow furrowed, the gentle creases in the skin of his forehead as he recounted his tale. The slight twitch in his nose when he mentioned he intended to pursue other things signified a distinct distaste. “What other things would you have considered pursuing?”

  
“Well,” Will sighed, still rather tense under the intense stare of his professor, “My father was a law enforcement officer, and my mother was never really around. My father never saw much merit in art.” Will paused, the lack of speech resounding loudly in his ears, and he gnawed at his lower lip in an attempt to alleviate the stress.  
“Why are you so nervous, Will?” Hannibal inquired with a slight smile, a carnivorous gleam in his eye.

  
“I’m not sure, Professor. I’ve never quite been in a situation like this, I’m not sure how to conduct myself,” Will squeezed his thighs, goosebumps forming over his skin as his professor’s eyes roamed him curiously.

  
“Just act natural. There’s absolutely no need to be worried. Would you like to proceed to the studio?”

  
Will nodded tentatively, and Hannibal led him through the immense home. He caught glimpses of expertly decorated rooms, until they arrived at a large room in the back, a loft with high ceilings. Intricate lighting systems were in place, and there was a regal, velvety couch adorned in plush pillows and blankets. In front was a large easel and canvas, surrounded by neatly organized supplies of every nature. Acrylics, oils, pens and pencils, charcoals, brushes, anything an artist would need. He gestured for Will to sit on the couch, and asked him to find a comfortable position. Will positioned himself so that his back rested comfortably on the couch, his knees bent at a ninety degree angle, palms faced down on his thighs.

  
“Is it alright if I modify your posture and appearance a bit?”

  
“Of course, Professor.” Will nodded, a somewhat picky artist himself.

  
“Please, call me Hannibal.” Hannibal approached him, almost gingerly. He hovered his hands tentatively over Will’s broad shoulders, as though he were asking for permission. Will nodded again, his heart hammering in his throat. He knew that he could stop if he was uncomfortable, however, the burning sensation in his abdomen when his professor slipped his jacket off with quick, soft hands, indicated that he was anything but. He’d never noticed how lithe, how delicate Hannibal’s features were. His eyes were a cold brown, his cheekbones were high and sharp. His lips were full, and soft looking as he gently exhaled while examining Will. The way his professor’s broad chest tapered into his slim hips, the way his pants hung around him, it all quickened his heart to a rapid pace. His cheeks flushed slightly with the effort of remaining composed.

  
His jacket now discarded, only a thin white fabric containing the heat of his skin, he felt nearly naked. He unconsciously tucked his hands between his thighs, prompting Hannibal’s slim hands to approach his collar, unbuttoning him down to nearly his solar plexus. Will blushed fiercely, and looked away. Hannibal again tilted his chin up to gaze into the younger man’s eyes, now standing above him.

  
“Why are you hiding, Will? You’ve so much power, you’re so beautiful.”

  
Will’s eyes fluttered, and he couldn’t think of words to respond. He was embarrassed, not used to being on the receiving end of such praise. Was he this way with all of his models?

  
“You’re too tense,” Hannibal placed his hands on Will’s shoulders, gently shifting him to lay back on the pillows, before positioning his legs so that he was sprawled out delicately across the couch. Will reached up to fix his hair, a nervous habit of his, when Hannibal stopped him halfway through.

  
“There, if that’s comfortable enough, brushing your hair out of your eyes. I want to see you,” Hannibal breathed, before quickly making his way to his easel. There Will lay, open and vulnerable, his cheeks flushed from the attention and praise murmured by his professor.

  
“Just like that,” he’d whisper, casting an approving glance, “Perfection.”

  
Will found a rapidly spreading heat that traveled from his abdomen to his crotch, and he realized that Hannibal’s attentive eyes wouldn’t let this escape unnoticed. He considered shifting in an attempt to conceal it, however, something within him stopped him from doing so. Time drew by, and he grew sleepy from the wine and the intensity of the situation.

  
_He became so lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed Hannibal standing to approach him. He brushed his soft fingers over the curve of Will’s cheekbones, causing Will to release a trembling exhale. He then took Will’s hand, not allowing him time to adjust himself, and led him to the easel. “Close your eyes,” he commanded in a whisper. Will obliged. He felt Hannibal’s gentle hands guide him to sit before the easel. “Open.”_

_  
Will gasped slightly. Before him was a cruel abstraction, a violent imago of himself. His eyes were dark and hooded, filled with a sort of twilight, but an innocence all the same. He looked utterly languid, light as a feather, in spite of his powerful stature, as depicted by Hannibal. His lips were full and cheeks flushed, his hair tousled perfectly. He also noted the subtle bulge in his pants, now incredibly embarrassed. He felt Hannibal rest his hand on Will’s shoulder. “What do you think?”  
“Is this how you see me?” Will mumbled softly, glancing up at his Professor, with big, wet eyes. Hannibal again stroked his cheek. His student’s lips looked so warm and soft, his eyes so wide and timid that he couldn’t help himself._

_  
“Yes,” he whispered, his face inching ever closer._

_  
“Professor, I--” Will breathed, as Hannibal took his lips for his own. He pulled away gently, and gazed into the looming eyes of his professor. “--I’m not that. I’m sorry, I can’t be that. I’m sorry, I’m just-- I don’t know why you picked me for this, I’m-”_

_  
Hannibal wrapped himself around his student, “Perfect,” he interrupted, planting kisses along his student’s exposed collarbone, up to his jawline. Will shifted, his erection growing in spite of his trepidation. He glanced into the fiery eyes of his imago, and though that perhaps, for Hannibal, that’s who he could be._

_  
“You are immaculate,” Hannibal whispered into the hot flesh of Will’s neck, after they had traversed to Hannibal’s lavish bedroom. Will moaned involuntarily as Hannibal pressed his student into the mattress, grinding their hips slowly together. His feather-light touch skimmed along Will’s torso, up his ribs, and to his pronounced chest. It had been a long time since Will had been touched like that, and he yearned for more, more contact, more pressure, more of Hannibal’s sweet words. His dick twitched against the fabric of his pants as he bucked his hips up into Hannibal, who responded by holding Will’s hands above his head, and slowly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his flushed, pink nipples. Hannibal discarded the younger man’s shirt, cast away to the floor and forgotten._

_  
Hannibal trailed a line of kisses down Will’s chest, pausing to suck on his nipples, grazing them gently with his teeth. Will’s legs tensed, “A-ah, Professor,” he moaned, bucking his hips up again. He moved to tangle his hands in his professor’s blond locks, gripping tightly as Hannibal placed an open mouthed kiss along his bulging length. Will inhaled sharply, as his professor unbuttoned his pants and tossed them aside, and began palming at his crotch. Will clamped his hand across his mouth to muffle his cries, and Hannibal tenderly pulled his arm away._

_  
“Don’t. I want to hear every beautiful sound you make for me. There’s no need to hide.”_

_  
Will blushed a violent shade of red as Hannibal pulled his briefs down, his dick springing eagerly forth. Hannibal wasted no time in placing slow, languid strokes up the length of his dick, causing Will to grip his hair harshly. “Professor!” he cried, panting, coming undone beneath Hannibal’s touch._

_  
“There you go,” Hannibal mumbled, before wrapping his lips around Will’s swollen head, “And please, call me Hannibal.” He proceeded to take Will’s impressive length in his throat, and his student squirmed, every muscle in his body tensing._

_  
“Hannibal!” he gasped, “Please, please, Hannibal…”_

~

  
Hannibal chuckled, watching his exhausted, nervous student slowly slip into slumber after a few hours of posing. At least he was comfortable. Hannibal glanced at the bulge in his pants, and grinned to himself. He quickly created a few sketches of his sleeping giant’s peaceful face. It was sublime, his lips softly parted, his hair mussed, his posture open and pliant. He eventually attempted to wake Will gently, receiving a mumble somewhere along the lines of, “...too drunk to drive home…” Morally, he should have sent Will home in a cab, however, Hannibal was not a man of typical moralistic value. He was a hedonist, through and through, and what he desired in that moment was to have the presence of this slumbering boy in his room that night.

  
He lifted Will from the couch with impressive ease, and carried him to his bed. He discarded Will’s shirt, and tucked him beneath the covers, following in quick suit. He drifted into a dreamless slumber, only to be awoken some hours later by whimpers originating from the man next to him, who had at some point in the night become wrapped around Hannibal, his leg slung over his professor’s. Perhaps he was having a nightmare, and Hannibal took a moment to observe him. The whimpering grew continually fiercer until he suddenly cried out Hannibal’s name, slowly grinding his now apparent erection into Hannibal’s hip. Hannibal laughed softly, and crossed his arms behind his head, savoring the moment prior to Will’s awakening.

  
Will awoke, surprised, and glanced around. His brow furrowed, and he squinted, confused, until he met Hannibal’s gaze. “Gah!” he jerked back, stumbling out of bed, attempting to cover his erection.

  
Hannibal simply smiled at him, “I was worried you had a nightmare, until you started calling my name. Tell me, was it good?”

  
Will stared at him like a deer in the headlights, his heart hammering in his chest, shame apparent in the flush on his cheeks. “Professor, I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know, uh, how did I get in your bed?”

  
“You fell asleep after modeling for a little while. You were too drunk to drive home. We didn’t do anything sexual, if that’s your concern,” Hannibal quirked an eyebrow, “Would you like some breakfast?”

  
Will shook his head, “Uh, no thank you. I actually have to go meet with Beverly, I’m so sorry. I’ll see you in class.” He grabbed his shirt off the floor, and scampered out of Hannibal’s house. Hannibal smiled to himself, and sketched Will’s face, flushed and embarrassed, with tinges of lust still residing in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! This is going to be a smutty-smut fanfiction, so let me know what you guys think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will returns to Hannibal's after their awkward encounter that morning.

“There’s absolutely no fucking way,” Beverly gawked, “No way in hell did you cuddle fuck our professor.”

  
“I didn’t mean to!” Will shouted, “Fuck, what do I do! There’s no way to apologize for that.” Beverly fell over on the floor, clutching her sides from laughing. “This isn’t funny, Beverly. I can’t look him in the eye.”

  
“I mean, he didn’t seem too mad, from his reaction,” Beverly giggled, earning a glare from Will. He sat down at his desk and opened his laptop, shaking his head.

  
“I knew I never should’ve fucking done this. Absolutely ridiculous,” Will muttered. Beverly sprung up and leaned over Will’s shoulder.

  
“What are you doing?”

  
“Checking my email to see if I got a notification to drop his class,” Will sighed, exasperated. Instead, he had received an email from Hannibal himself.

  
“Fuck me,” Beverly mumbled, before again bursting out into giggles.

**Subject** : Portraiture

  
Will,  
I would like to take you on as my model to do a full portrait study. I will compensate you for your time. If you are interested, please return to my studio tonight for further study.  
Regards,  
Hannibal

  
~

  
Will did his best to scrub Hannibal’s scent off of himself in the shower, as his heart rate quickened, recalling his dream from the previous night. Heat began to swell in his abdomen again, and he felt his cock twitch. “Fuck,” he mumbled, as harmful as his fantasies were, they were inescapable. He palmed himself, his eyes rolling back a bit as he groaned. He could still smell Hannibal’s sheets on his skin. He imagined what those soft hands would feel like, roaming about his body, exploring every angle, every curve he had to offer. He imagined his professor praising him for his beauty, and how good he was. He thumbed his slit and quickened the pace of his hand, panting heavily, choking on the steam of the shower. A small part of him thought that perhaps Hannibal wanted him too, and this drove him crazy.

  
_“You’re beautiful,”_ Hannibal would murmur, caressing every inch of his body, _ _ _“__ I love the way you move for me, the way your lips part, and your legs tremble when I hit the spots you like. Your little whimpers and moans as you try to muffle your cries of pleasure, the way you scream for me when you don’t.” _Will pumped himself harder, as he imagined his taking all of his professor in his mouth, just to please him. He imagined the flattery that would tumble from Hannibal’s lips, until he felt his abdomen tense, and he came in white ribbons into his shower drain.

____  
~_ _ _ _

____  
____ Will once again found himself at Hannibal’s doorstep, Beverly somehow having coaxed him into returning that night. _This is ridiculous, this is utterly ridiculous._ Finally, he found the resolve to knock on Hannibal’s door, this time, much later at night. Hannibal welcomed him in without an awkward pause or hitch. He led Will back to the studio, seating him on the couch and examining him. Will wore a dark turtleneck and plaid pants, which fit tightly around his muscular thighs.

  
“Do you mind posing nude?” Hannibal inquired after a short period of consideration. Will immediately flushed crimson, and although he tried, he couldn’t avert his gaze from Hannibal’s. “I have heating, if you get cold. I find it builds a more honest connection. A portrait is built not just from one’s facial structure, but one’s expression, and all of that which motivates it. If you’re not, of course, that’s fine.”

  
Will nodded silently, and began to strip his shirt off, revealing his strong, tanned musculature. Hannibal didn’t avert his gaze, and watched as Will undressed entirely. Much to Will’s embarrassment, he was already partially hard. Hannibal offered a slight smile, and returned to his easel after positioning Will. He again lay sprawled against the couch, this time, his arm cast languidly over his forehead, his other draped across his stomach, his fingers delicately splayed.

  
“Perfect,” Hannibal mumbled, and began to sketch.

  
After some time, and the tension in Will’s gut had finally begun to settle, until Hannibal peered from around his canvas, and coolly asked, “What was your dream about?” Will’s heart leapt to his throat, and he furrowed his brow. He considered lying, and he considered not answering, but both of those seemed worse than the truth-- it would only prompt further questioning, and further lies.

  
“You, Professor Lecter,” he swallowed thickly, “I had a dream that we slept together.”

  
“We did sleep together,” Hannibal quipped.

  
“I had a dream that we had sex,” Will clarified, gruff and frustrated as he averted his gaze.

  
“To reiterate my question from this morning,” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, “Was it good?”

  
“Yes,” Will blushed, abashed, though meeting Hannibal’s gaze all the same. It was silent for a moment, as Hannibal pondered his choice of words.

  
“Did you touch yourself when you got home?” His voice was level and calm, as always.

  
Will’s eyes sprung open, his mouth agape. He felt his dick begin to harden again as he thought about his shower escapades, the details of the dream returning to him. “Yes,” he breathed, this time less curt.

  
Hannibal paused his sketching, “Show me.”

  
Will’s composure finally broke, and he began to flounder, “I- uh, you want me to--”

  
“I want you to masturbate for me. If you’re comfortable, that is.”

  
Will felt a burning in his cheeks, but he couldn’t deny that his dick grew harder by the second, throbbing to the extent where it was almost painful. Wordlessly, and unable to stop himself, he grasped his dick and slowly began to work himself. Hannibal didn’t smile, he didn’t do much of anything at all. He simply observed. Will broke their eye contact, shutting his eyes, his back arching slightly, as he lolled his head into the pillows. He allowed the situation to overtake him, and he lost any sense of discomfort. This was amplified when Hannibal began to praise him. “You’re so beautiful,” Hannibal murmured, sketching furiously, attempting to drink in the sight of Will as he writhed exquisitely atop his couch.

  
“Oh, god,” Will breathed, working himself faster and rougher, thinking of Hannibal’s hands gently caressing his heated skin, positioning him, molding Will to his whims.  
“Look at me,” Hannibal commanded softly, and Will obliged, tearing up. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying out. He bucked his hips up against his hand, his leg muscles twitching.

  
“The way you move is magnificent,” Hannibal whispered, in awe, “The arch of your back, the tensing in your shaking thighs, the flush of your lips. It’s immaculate.”  
Will whimpered, clamping his hand over his mouth, all the while continuing to stroke himself.

  
“Don’t muffle yourself,” Hannibal demanded, “I want to hear you.”

  
“Ah- Hannibal,” Will moaned, his voice whorish and low, as he continued to gaze into the eyes of his professor, his lip catching between his teeth.

  
“You are magnificent,” Hannibal lavished praise on his lustful student, “You are the most exquisite thing I have ever seen.”

  
“More,” Will panted desperately, running a hand up his chest to rub his nipples, “Please.”

  
“I want you to come for me,” Hannibal murmured, “I want to watch you come.”

  
“I’m close,” Will breathed, his chest heaving, tears running down his cheeks from the intensity, his toes curling so tight it hurt, “Tell me what you want me to do,” he whimpered, begging for instruction, as each demand from Hannibal sent fire through his veins, his gut twinging with every word.

  
“Brush your hair back from your eyes, I want to see you,” Hannibal whispered, and Will obliged, his forehead damp with sweat. “I want to hear you,” he said, “I want you to think of me touching you, think of all the things I could do to you. The things I could make you feel--”

  
“A-ah, Hannibal, I’m gonna--”

  
“I want you to scream--”

  
“Hannibal--”

  
“I want you to need me so badly it hurts--”

  
“Oh, Hannibal, I’m gonna--”

  
“There you go--”

  
“F-fuck, Hannibal!”

  
Will’s hips jerked upwards as he came in white hot spurts across his chest and abdomen. He fucked his hand, riding out his orgasm, his words dissolving into passionate cries, and eventually soft moans. He couldn’t turn his gaze from Hannibal’s, so he simply lay there, watching the look of absolute wonderment on Hannibal’s face with a sordid satisfaction. Hannibal eventually stood, and scooped the trembling Will off of the couch, carrying him off to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a lot of smut, basically. Porn with a plot, if you will.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will spends the night with Hannibal.

He directed Will to the shower, all the while, drawing him a bath.

  
Will rinsed himself, and then proceeded to submerge himself in the sweet smelling bubbles of the bathtub. Hannibal was busy rolling up his sleeves as Will gingerly entered, again feeling rather self conscious in the aftermath of his escapades. He began to panic, what was he doing? He jacked off in front of his professor, that was obscene. Although he couldn’t deny how it had felt in the moment, he was still ashamed of himself for succumbing to his desires. He sunk into the bath, attempting to disguise himself among the bubbles.

  
Hannibal knelt behind him, and lathered soap in his hands, before beginning to wash his student’s hair. At first, Will tensed, before relinquishing to the oddity of the moment as he sighed and leaned into it. Hannibal massaged his scalp, his neck, his shoulders, all in an attempt to relax him. They remained within a tentative silence for quite some time, until Will finally mustered the words he’d been holding back.

  
“Are you ever going to touch me?” The back of his neck flushed crimson, and he regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. Hannibal continued to lather soap into his hair for a few moments before responding.

  
“Would you like me to?”

  
“Yeah,” Will whispered, “So this doesn’t feel so one sided.”

  
“Does it feel one sided to you now?”

  
“I don’t know how it feels,” Will trailed off, “It feels strange.”

  
“Does it feel wrong?”

  
“...Yeah.”

  
“Would you like to stop?”

  
Will shook his head, and Hannibal submerged him beneath the water to wash the soap out of his hair. When he surfaced, he rubbed the water out of his eyes to find Hannibal holding a towel for him. He stepped out of the bath, and allowed himself to be enveloped. He slicked his hair back out of his face, and turned to face Hannibal, seemingly awaiting further instruction.

  
“It’s late,” Hannibal began, “Would you like to spend the night?”

  
Admittedly, Will knew he was in far over his head, however, he figured a night of sexual exploits couldn’t get much stranger than his day had already been. There was an intrigue, a sick sort of curiosity held about his professor. It was odd, however, it seemed preferable to a night alone in his dorm room. He had already made his decision, and his professor could sense it, however he spent another moment or two deliberating.

  
“Okay,” he matched Hannibal’s gaze, and Hannibal nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he led the two to his bedroom.

  
When Will had awoken in a state of shock there that morning, he hadn’t taken the time to notice how gorgeous it was. The bed was an antique four post frame, with gorgeous, silken navy blue sheets. The curtains were thick, and the room was a cool, bluish gray with cream accents. An immense fireplace roared in front of the bed, before it, a persian rug. Various small sculptures adorned the mantle and bedside tables.

  
Will drank in the details of the room, with naught but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Hannibal gestured to his covering, “May I?”

  
“Yeah,” Will mumbled, and Hannibal gently removed the towel from his waist, rendering him fully naked. He felt the urge to cover himself, although he sensed he would be scolded for doing so. Instead, he turned himself to the fireplace, warming his hands and feet which had grown cold on the walk over. Feeling particularly brave, he opted to sprawl himself out across the rug, laying on his side, his head propped on his hand. He heard the bed creak as he assumed Hannibal sat, observing him.

  
The silence was punctuated by the crackling of the fire, and Will relinquished himself to it. He gently shut his eyes, and enjoyed the warmth that spread across his chest. He imagined how Hannibal must have seen him, in this moment, aglow in the light of the fire, his tanned skin illuminated. The sheen of his silky, still-damp hair might seem utterly irresistible, and he might desire to run his finger through it. The curve of his waist, the rippling musculature of his back, the flex in his deltoids from his position-- Hannibal certainly wouldn’t miss a single detail.

  
He relished his moment of introspection, although it seemed nearly an out of body experience. His beautiful reverie was interrupted by Hannibal’s thick, warm voice.

  
“Are you coming to bed?”

  
“In a minute,” Will replied, his eyes still closed as a small smile crept across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! This is a relatively short chapter, but it was fun to write. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beverly introduces Will to Alana, and hijinks ensue.

Will didn’t check his phone until he arrived back at his dorm room, only to find nearly a dozen texts from Beverly. He chuckled quietly to himself, and scrolled through them. The first set was wishing him luck, not so subtly hinting to rather obscene things. The second series was regarding an invitation she’d received to a club from a good friend of hers, and she wanted him to come with her. He rubbed his forehead, exhausted, and dialed Beverly’s number. She picked up after the first ring.

“Beverly, can you come over?”

“Yeah, is everything okay? How did last night go?”

“Strange. Let me know when you’re here.”

~

After Will had recounted the tale of the previous night, omitting as much detail as possible, Beverly simply stared at him, floundering like a fish. Will scratched the back of his head, nervous that he had frightened her off. After a few moments, she blinked, regained her composure, and squinted at him. “So, you’re telling me you guys didn’t fuck?”

Will blinked, “No, I mean, not yet.”

“Ha!” Beverly laughed, “You’re ridiculous, you know that, right? I swear, if you get better grades than me because you’re our professor’s twink, I’ll kill you.”

“I didn’t know this was going to happen!” Will threw his hands up, exasperated, “You really think I expected to jack off in front of my professor my second week of college? Do you really think that’s what I wanted for myself?”

“Oddly enough, yes. I’m kidding, by the way, about the grade thing. I know I’m too good for it to matter,” she smirked, clearly confident in her abilities. She hopped up and wandered over to him, “Anyways, have you given any thought to coming clubbing with me tonight? I figured you could use a bit of a distraction, and I could use a big buff guy to make sure I don’t get roofied.”

“It’s a Sunday,” Will furrowed his brow, “We have classes tomorrow.”

“Yes, and?” Beverly quirked an eyebrow, attempting to maintain a straight face, “Come on, it’ll be fun. I have a friend who can get us in without getting carded. She’s great, you’ll love her. You’re only young once, soon enough, we’ll be too old and brittle to go partying on a Sunday.”

Will pinched the bridge of his nose, already exhausted, but knowing full well that he would succumb to Beverly’s pleas. “I’m really not a crowd sort of person,” he offered one final weak protest.

“That’s what recreational drugs are for,” she beamed, “I’ll come get you around nine.”

~

Will had tossed on a blazer and a pair of dark, houndstooth patterned pants. Beverly regarded him with a bright grin, clad in a skimpy black dress and an impressive set of heels, her hair tossed up in a sleek ponytail. Her outfit was a stark departure from her usually casual get up consisting of a variety of coveralls and loose-fitting jeans. “Wow,” Will scratched the back of his neck, “You look, uh,”

“Radiant? Stunning? Bond girl-esque? I know, thank you. You don’t look too shabby yourself,” she beamed, before dragging him towards the rapidly growing line forming outside of the club. Violent electronic music emanated from within, and Will could feel the onset of a headache forming. His eyebrows knit together, and Beverly took notice. “What’s wrong? You look great, and you’ll adore Alana. I don’t know if you’re into girls, but after meeting her, you will be,” Beverly winked.

Will rolled his eyes, unable to prevent himself from cracking a slight, crooked grin. “I don’t particularly care, as long as they’re interesting enough,” he raised his eyebrows, “and I’m much more of a quiet evening on a fishing boat sort of guy. I told you, clubs aren’t really my scene.”

Beverly glanced around, before reaching into her bra and producing a small plastic bag with two brightly colored tablets. Will immediately snatched them out of Beverly’s hand and concealed them in his pocket, glaring at her. “What the hell, Beverly, do you want us to get arrested?” he hissed, incredulous.

“I told you I was bringing drugs! A little molly never hurt anyone, plus, you won’t be so damn tense,” Beverly pawed at Will’s pocket in an attempt to get her bag back. Will dodged her grabbing hands, clutching his pocket to his side.

“You’re ridiculous! I thought you were kidding! Why can’t we just get drunk like normal college students?” Will asked, entirely exasperated and quite ready to head home.

Beverly rolled her eyes, “Fine, fine. You should consider giving it a shot, you’re way too stressed. Plus, my dealer is good, it’s not laced. It’s perfectly safe, as long as you’re not on viagra or anything,” she glanced at Will’s crotch, her eyebrows raised.

“I’m not on viagra,” he huffed, “And it doesn’t need to be laced. It’s fucking ecstasy.” He sighed heavily and rubbed his brow, growing hot from the swell of the crowd. He laughed a bit to himself, before glancing up at Beverly, “You’re crazy, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded with a grin, “I know. It’s a lot of fun, isn’t it? Come on,” she took his hand and dragged him to the front of the line, much to his chagrin, “Alana should be here to let us in.” They received a number of disgruntled stares from the people they shoved by, until they reached a very unamused bouncer.

Will stammered in an attempt to find an explanation, until a bright, clear voice called out, “They’re with me!” The voice was matched with a pair of bright blue eyes, and a warm, cheery smile. The bouncer nodded, and let them pass. Their savior wrapped him and Beverly into a tight hug, causing Will to stiffen, and grimace uncomfortably. “You must be Will,” the girl grinned.

The first thing Will noticed was how white her teeth were, and the second was the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. It was beautiful. The apples of her cheeks were round and full, and her eyes were narrow, yet they glimmered brilliantly. “Alana, I presume.”

Alana squeezed his shoulder, and turned to Beverly, “God, he’s so serious. Where’d you find him? I thought you said he was an art student.”

“Eh, let’s get a few drinks in him, see if he’ll loosen up then,” Beverly winked at him.

“My pleasure,” Alana grinned, and dragged them into the throng of people. After downing a number of overpriced shots at the bar, Will did, in fact, feel looser-- so loose, in fact, that he allowed Alana to drag him out to the dance floor, only to be swarmed by the undulating crowd of people. Will found himself to be a bit uncomfortable, surrounded by the sweaty, sticky bodies-- that is, until Alana took his hands, and placed them at her waist, and pressed her forehead against his, her arms thrown around his neck. She was a quiet calm, a respite within the maddening pressure of the crush of the mob. She looked angelic. Her hair lay in frizzy, black tendrils, creating a halo in the hectic, maddening strobe lights. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her skin, and a delicate flush to her cheek and chest as she began to sway the pair in a hypnotic, rhythmic dance. She smelled sweet, and vaguely of cheap vodka, and Will suddenly found himself fixated on her lips. The bottom was fuller than the top, and they were painted a bright, cherry red. She bared her teeth in a grin, her eyes hooded and low.

“You’re very kissable,” Will mumbled in spite of himself, immediately hoping she couldn’t hear him over the music.

His comment was met with a smile, and she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “And you’re dangerous,” she murmured, pressing her hips a bit closer to hers. He let out a breathy laugh, his grasp on her hips tightening a bit.

“How’s that?”

“You intrigue me,” she breathed, her voice low, “But you’re unstable. Unfortunately for the both of us, I like that.”

“How do you know I'm unstable?” Will laughed, “You’ve known me for all of an hour.”

“I’m a people person,” she smiled, “I just know.” She craned her neck forward a bit, until she and Will’s lips were mere centimeters away. Will felt his heart thud thickly against his ribcage, and a vague panic begin to well in his chest. For whatever reason, Alana made him incredibly nervous, and with the amount of alcohol he had consumed, it was to an extent that rendered him uncomfortable.

He leaned back and cleared his throat, “I should probably find Beverly, we have class early tomorrow,” he mumbled, “Do you have any idea where she might be?”

Alana pulled away, and raised her eyebrows, apparently not offended by Will’s quasi-rejection, “She’s probably on the prowl, you know how she is. I’ll go find her, meet me at the bar.” Will nodded curtly, and meandered over to the bar, where the bartender shot him an apologetic look. Will simply ran his hand through his mussed curls, and found himself wondering what Hannibal was up to. He was probably listening to opera and drinking expensive wine, or whatever brilliant artists did in their off time. He wondered if Hannibal would approve of his escapades, or if he would be disappointed. Before he could unpack that thought, he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder, and turned around to find Alana with an incredibly inebriated Beverly in tow.

“You’re throwing in the towel already? It’s only midnight,” she slurred, slumping over on Will’s shoulder. Alana raised her eyebrows, and Will laughed a bit.

“I’ll get her home safe. Have a good night, Alana.”

“You too, Will.” With that, Will hoisted Beverly over his shoulder, receiving a slight protest in the form of an incoherent mumble. As he passed the bouncer, he mentioned that she was a friend of his, and luckily, Alana had followed them to confirm, so that Will didn’t seem like a predator. Once they arrived back at Will's dorm, he tossed her onto his bed. He took off her shoes, and tucked her under the covers.

“Good night, you nutcase,” he murmured sleepily, before slumping over at his desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is a petty, jealous bitch, as we all know at this point. Poor Alana, she never had a chance.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal believes Will and Beverly to be involved, strangeness ensues.

Hannibal sat alone, staring at the absence of Will on his couch. He aimlessly swirled his brush into his oil paints, and added a stroke or two to his rendition of Will’s lust. He was frustrated, in that in spite of his crystal clear memory of Will, he couldn’t quite find the proper shade of pinks with which to grace his imago’s cheeks. He anticipated seeing Will in class the following day, in the hopes of inciting that same flush on his student’s cheeks. Will had such an entrancing way of showing his shame, and Hannibal supposed it was due to the fact that Will thoroughly enjoyed it. In spite of his straight-laced, self righteous demeanor, he obliged Hannibal’s every whim with little to no protest. Hannibal had begun to push his boundaries, in an attempt to find a hard limit, but he’d yet to discover even a tentative one. He wondered if Will knew the slippery slope he was embarking on. People didn’t often refuse Hannibal, however, that was because Hannibal tended to know his limitations, with respect to others. Will, however, didn’t appear to have any. Indulging Hannibal was a dangerous game, and one that Will seemed willing to play.

Thoroughly pleased with himself, Hannibal supposed about the various positions Will would find himself contorting into throughout the duration of their time together. How he would make his student bend, if not break, all in the act of submitting to Hannibal’s will. In all of Will’s haughty surprise at Hannibal’s requests, there was a shy eagerness, a willingness to comply, almost a need. It was as though Will was searching for direction, warm, strong hands to mold and ply him into a more pleasing shape. Perhaps he simply sought a distraction, Hannibal mused, and no matter the reasoning, Hannibal was ready and able to meet that need.

He pondered contacting Will, though, it was late Sunday evening, and perhaps the student was sleeping. Hannibal thought himself naive, as for a moment he considered that Will couldn’t have plans outside of those made with his professor. Perhaps he was with Beverly, he had mentioned that the two were close. He pictured the two of them spending time with one another, which eventually devolved into them tangled in each other’s arms. This displeased Hannibal, and for the first time in ages, he found himself covetous. The look of undiluted desire in Will’s eyes was to be reserved for Hannibal, and Hannibal alone. He doubted his student would deny him this, he thought with a smirk, and opted to sleep.

~

Will awoke early Monday morning to Beverly attempting to lift him from his chair. He mumbled a string of confused curses, before finally coming to. “What are you doing?”

“You dumbass, did you sleep at your desk all night? You’re gonna get chronic back pain. You shoulda thrown my ass in the dumpster, I gotta learn my lesson some day,” Beverly grunted as Will swatted her away.

“I don’t have the key to your dorm, stupid, and I wasn’t gonna throw you on the floor,” Will rubbed his eyes, and cracked his back, “What time is it?”

“Almost time for class. I’m gonna hop in your shower, if you don’t mind.”

Will waved her on, before slumping back over at his desk, his head throbbing.

He vaguely heard the shower turn on as he faded in and out of consciousness. He replayed the previous night’s events in his head, and groaned in dismay at his rejection of Alana. She really was gorgeous, and there was no reason to deny her. He wanted to ask Beverly to see her again, but embarrassment stopped him-- if he saw her again, he might die of shame. What had stopped him?

Hannibal’s wicked smile flashed through his mind, and he buried his head in his hands. He wondered if Hannibal would have minded him kissing Alana, and perhaps doing more. He liked to think that if Hannibal had seen how he and Alana were dancing last night, he would have yanked Will away, and taken him into his own, much more capable arms.

He wondered what it would be like, to dance with Hannibal. He was sure that Hannibal had little to no interest in clubs, much like himself. He imagined that Hannibal would take him somewhere quiet, perhaps a bridge overlooking the sea, and they’d dance under the pale light of the moon, the inky ocean waves threatening to consume them as they danced. They would listen to a moody aria, or perhaps the sound of their own heartbeats.

His comfortable, quiet thoughts were interrupted by Beverly crashing around in the bathroom, presumably searching for a towel.

“I’m coming out! Don’t look, I’m stealing some of your clothes.”

“Boxers are in the top drawer, everything else is in the wardrobe. Don’t make it too obvious that it’s my clothes you’re wearing, I don’t want anyone to get any ideas.”

“Ha!” Beverly laughed, “You don’t want your daddy thinking we’re screwing? You wouldn’t dare imply you’re embarrassed of me, now would you?”

“Shut up,” Will blushed, “The first one, and he’s not my daddy. That’s just weird.” he mumbled into his sleeve, his head still slumped over on his desk.

“And jacking off in front of him isn’t?” Will looked up and shot her a glare, and she simply grinned in response, “I’m just fucking with you. What happened with Alana, by the way, I was sure you two were gonna hook up.”

“I don’t know-- I just… couldn’t,” Will trailed off as he ran a hand through his mussed hair. He stood and walked over to the mirror to inspect himself. He looked awful, his stubble was growing out, and his eyes were sunken in.

“Don’t tell me you have feeling for Lecter,” Beverly furrowed her brow, “Sex is one thing, Will, but that’s a dangerous game to play. You gotta remember, he’s at least twenty years older than you, and artists aren’t known for settling down. Never mind the fact that he’s your professor.”

Will sighed heavily, “Of all the things stopping me from screwing your friend, that wasn’t one of them. I’m not in the habit of doing things when I’m hammered, it only leads to regret.” Although he sounded confident in his assertions, he looked away, his cheeks flushing slightly. He didn’t know if he had feelings for Hannibal, but he absolutely felt a certain way about his professor.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Beverly grinned, after donning a pair of Will’s sweats and an old tee of his, which she practically swam in, “Come on. Even if you’re fucking him, I doubt he’ll hesitate to dock you for being late.”

“Yeah,” Will laughed a bit to himself, “Let’s go.”

~

Will's scent was overpowering, Hannibal noted as his students filtered into the room, and more so than usual. His eyes were immediately drawn to Beverly, who was adorned in clothes much too large for her wiry frame. Both she and Will appeared exhausted, and Will’s usually clean shaven face was smattered with a light dusting of stubble. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed, as he recalled his musings on the pair’s activity the previous night. It was evident that Beverly had slept in Will’s bed, she smelled not only of his detergent, but his soap and sweat as well. Hannibal was disconcerted with how displeasing he found these revelations to be.

As the students began to work, he made his usual rounds, not looking to Will once, until he had circled to his position in the room. He placed a gentle hand on the small of Will’s back, causing that little flush to creep up Will’s neck to his cheeks. Hannibal smiled, pleased with himself as he so often was. He leaned in to whisper in his student’s ear, “Beverly’s work is radiant today, don’t you think?” His tone was far too casual, making it appear vaguely threatening.

“Professor?” Will stammered, turning to face Hannibal, scared as a rabbit in a trap. Hannibal offered a warm smile in return before departing. Will’s heart rate had quickened, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead now. Throughout the rest of the class, he habitually glanced at Hannibal, who worked calmly at his desk. When the interminable class finally ended, Will approached Hannibal’s desk as the remaining students filed out.

“Professor? Do you have a moment?”

Hannibal glanced up coolly, prompting will to continue.

“What did you mean, earlier, about Beverly?”

“Nothing at all,” Hannibal mused, glancing back down to his work, “I simply noted her talent.”

“Really?” Will snapped, “Because it didn’t seem like it meant nothing.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, shocked at Will’s disheveled and uncouth conduct, which was a strict departure from his usually stoic demeanor. He blinked once, before putting his pencil down. “If you’d like, I would be happy to discuss it over dinner at my place, tonight. Does 9:00 sound alright?”

“Fine,” Will huffed, before turning on a heel and stalking out of the classroom.

~

Beverly awaited Will outside the door, and was shocked when he stormed out, utterly fuming. She quickened her pace to keep up with him. “What the hell happened?” she inquired, her brow knit together in worry, not used to seeing Will so distressed.

“I don’t know what the fuck his deal is,” Will barked, running a frantic hand through his hair.

“Did I get you in trouble with him? I’m sorry, Will, I didn’t think anything would happen--”

“It’s not your fault,” Will sighed, “He just made some comment about your art, but it was strange. I don’t know what he wants from me.”

“Well, did you ask?”

“I did," Will furrowed his brow, glowering, "I guess I’ll find out my answer at dinner tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late-ish upload. College has been railing me up the ass, and not in the fun way. I hope y'all enjoyed, and feel free to comment and tell me what you think, or what you want to happen!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes to Hannibal's house for answers, but only finds more questions. (Listen to Je Te Laisserai des Mots by Patrick Watson if you wanna get in the mood of this chapter, also it's just a beautiful song.)

Hannibal welcomed Will into his home, the latter still huffy from their confrontation this morning. Hannibal was dressed in a red-checked suit with an intricately patterned cravat, and Will was dressed in a deep blue blazer and pants to match. He was feeling vengeful, as he got ready, and groomed himself particularly well. In spite of his irritation, he still wanted to look good for Hannibal. As they walked into the dining room, Will was presented with a set of wondrous aromas, and found himself softening a bit at the effort Hannibal had apparently put in.

“It smells delicious,” Will offered, as Hannibal pulled a chair out for him to sit.

“Tête de veau en sauce verte,” Hannibal presented the ornately arranged dish, and Will began to salivate. Hannibal poured them a decadent wine, and Will took a sip. He was never one for the finer things, however, in Hannibal’s presence, he felt like he could enjoy these things without shame. The rich flavor exploded over his tongue, and he shut his eyes to savor it.

“Would you mind telling me in English what we’re about to eat?” Will smiled a bit, as Hannibal sat across from him.

“A delicate cut of veal, smoked on a pyre of dry day. My butcher is excellent, I assure you,” Hannibal daintily cut himself a slice, and wrapped his lips around his fork, reveling in his own ability. Will cut himself a piece, and found himself shocked by how delicious it was. He’d never put much merit into the culinary arts, however, this was something magnificent. It was an art form of its own.

“I believe you wanted to discuss something?” Hannibal spoke rather tonelessly, as he glanced up from his meal to look at Will. Will suddenly found himself wordless, and particularly abashed. Hannibal looked at him expectantly, a glimmer of teasing in his eye.

“Are you jealous of Beverly?” Will blurted out, and Hannibal raised his eyebrows in response. A blush crept across Will’s cheeks, and he stared down at his plate. The silence bore into his ears like termites, and Hannibal did nothing to alleviate it. Will looked up, meek and fretful,“What do you want from this, Hannibal?” Hannibal matched his gaze, and continued his silence, prompting Will to fill it.

“I mean, I know I’m your subject, but I can’t help but feel like this is something more. I don’t know if that’s what you intended, or what you want, or if this is how you act with all of your subjects, I just-- I don’t know,” Will trailed off, his face flushed a bright red, his eyes wide. He pursed his lips, and awaited Hannibal’s response.

“Would you like it to be?” he spoke after what seemed to be an interminable amount of time, his voice soft and gentle, gentler than Will had ever heard him.

“I’m not sure,” Will whispered in response, and gripped his thigh tightly, a nervous habit of his.

“A simpler question, then,” Hannibal began, “Would you like me to touch you?”

Will looked down and blushed a deeper shade of red, his heart thudding in his chest, a heat flooding his abdomen, “You know the answer to that.”

“I want to hear you say it,” Hannibal’s voice was clear, and unabashed, “Look at me,” he commanded gently, and Will obliged.

“I want you to touch me,” Will murmured. With that, Hannibal stood and walked to Will’s side of the table, scooping him out of his chair and carrying him to his bedroom.

~

Will wound his rough hands into Hannibal’s silken hair, his thighs clenching as he attempted to restrain his moans. Hannibal planted kisses down Will’s now bare chest, and occasionally paused to mark his student’s delicate skin, all the while palming Will’s crotch. As he reached the hem of Will’s pants, Hannibal returned to kiss him, grinding his hips against the younger man. He still wore his shirt and pants, though the prior was slightly more unbuttoned than it had been previously.

“You taste divine,” Hannibal breathed, fisting Will’s hair and tugging slightly.

“It’s your cooking,” Will laughed, breathless and husky-voiced. Hannibal smiled a bit at his comment, before leaning down to leave small bites along Will’s fleshy trapezius and muscle wrapped shoulders. Will shuddered, and bucked his hips against Hannibal, desperate for any pressure against his rapidly growing erection.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you,” Will murmured as he tugged on Hannibal’s hair, pleading for another heated kiss. Hannibal gripped Will’s waist, his thumbs finding purchase just above his student’s hip bones. He pulled away, and took a moment to survey Will. His hair was mussed, and strands were matted to his forehead. His pupils were wide, and his chest heaved as he panted, his lips bitten and flushed. His body arched towards Hannibal, yearning for more of his touch, the feeling of Hannibal’s lips on his tender skin, his wiry fingers rubbing and grasping all the right places.

“You are exquisite,” Hannibal murmured, and placed his lips around Will’s nipple, flicking it with his tongue and biting it lightly, “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known.”

“Oh god,” Will squeezed his eyes shut, and dug his fingertips into Hannibal’s shoulders. Hannibal ducked his head down, and his nimble fingers quickly undid Will’s pants, and cast them aside. Hannibal ran his hands up and down Will’s muscular thighs, and licked a wet stripe along Will’s clothed erection.

“Fuck,” Will hissed, and Hannibal responded by hooking his fingers in Will’s waistband, and yanking them down. Will’s dick sprung up, and Hannibal wasted no time in wrapping his lips around Will’s swollen head. He swirled his tongue around Will’s tip, tasting salty droplets of precum. He paused to lick from the base of Will’s cock to his tip, maddeningly slow, as though he were savoring the moment. Will’s eyes rolled back into his head, and his thighs clenched around Hannibal as he felt a heat build in his gut.

“God, Hannibal,” he moaned, and Hannibal repeated his action, adoring the noises it elicited from Will. He then wrapped his lips around Will’s cock, and began to bob his head up and down, taking the entirety of his student’s length in his throat. Will let out a string of heated curses, unconsciously beginning to fuck Hannibal’s mouth. He wrapped his hands into Hannibal’s hair, his toes curling as he began to tremble.

“Ah-- Hannibal, I’m gonna--” Hannibal increased his pace, and flicked his tongue across Will’s head, causing him to cry out, his body going rigid. He came in hot spurts into Hannibal’s mouth before collapsing, his arms splayed out across the bed. Hannibal swallowed Will’s cum, and licked his lips. He kissed his way up, back to the heated flesh of Will’s neck where he buried his face, sucking and nipping as he elicited small whimpers from his student.

After Will had recovered, he moved to sit up, only to be gently pushed back to the bed by Hannibal. Will glanced to the bulge in Hannibal’s pants. “Let me,” he mumbled, and pulled Hannibal into a languid kiss and cupped his warm hand over Hannibal’s dick, and began to rub. Hannibal undid his pants and took off his shirt, laying Will’s back softly against the bed. He gripped Will’s ass, and glanced up to him, asking permission. Will nodded, and caught his lip between his teeth.

Hannibal placed his two fingers at Will’s lips, and Will opened his mouth to suck them. He ran his tongue over Hannibal’s fingers, sucking in his cheeks. Hannibal withdrew his fingers, and took a moment to look at Will. His eyes were wide, his abdomen tense and strong, his knees apart to make room for Hannibal. He was tan, and his skin was tinged pink from his lust. Hannibal circled his fingers around Will’s entrance, and eased into him. Will gasped sharply, and tensed around Hannibal’s fingers.

“Are you alright?” Hannibal mumbled, his voice low and thick.

Will nodded, “Yeah, just give me a second,” he choked. He wrapped his fists into the sheets, and nodded for Hannibal to continue. He worked his fingers slowly, until Will began to loosen with his touch. Hannibal began to go deeper, until he brushed his soft fingertips against Will’s prostate. Will cried out, his back arching deliciously as his hands gripped the sheets harshly, his knuckles turning white.

“You’re magnificent,” Hannibal leaned down to whisper in Will’s ear, “You make the most marvelous noises.” Will moaned, pleading for more of Hannibal’s sweet words and praise. Hannibal removed his fingers, receiving a groan of protest from his student. Hannibal positioned his hips at Will’s entrance, and eased in slowly. Will’s legs tightened around Hannibal’s waist, and Hannibal’s strong hands gripped Will’s thighs. Will wrapped his legs around Hannibal’s waist, prompting Hannibal to pull out a bit, before thrusting back in, eliciting a choked moan from Will.

“Hannibal…” he breathed, “More… please,” tears leaked from his eyes, the pleasure building was far too much for him to take. Hannibal obliged, and thrust harshly into Will at an impossibly rough pace. He leaned down and wound one hand into Will’s hair, the other at his waist, gently squeezing. He mumbled something softly in Lithuanian into Will’s ear, before returning to English.

“You feel,” Hannibal’s voice was low and rough, “so good.”

“Hannibal--”

“You are immaculate--”

“Please, god, you’re so good--” Will moaned, his eyes shut, his hands gripping Hannibal’s shoulders.

“Look at me,” Hannibal commanded, “I want to watch you come for me.” Will’s eyes sprung open, wide and wet with tears. Will looked at him with such adoration, Hannibal was rendered defenseless. The reverence Will had for Hannibal was shocking, it was divine, it was beautiful. Hannibal felt himself nearing his finish, so he wrapped his hand around Will’s cock and began to pump his fist. Will’s thighs clenched, and his toes curled. He arched his back, pressing his chest to Hannibal’s.

“I’m gonna--” Will stammered, before crying out, cumming all over Hannibal and his chest, clenching around Hannibal. Hannibal followed quickly in suit, his thrusts growing erratic, until he came, and collapsed to the bed beside Will. They breathed heavily, the air thick with their lust. After a moment, Hannibal stood, and scooped Will up into his arms, and carried him to the bathroom.

~

After they had both rinsed off in the shower, they lay in the bath together, Will between Hannibal’s legs, laying against his chest. Hannibal stroked Will’s hair softly, and then existed within a comfortable silence. The water was warm, and smelled sweet from whatever oils Hannibal had added, along with the bubbles.

“Was that your first time?” Hannibal asked, his voice rough and quiet.

Will shook his head and sighed, “Tragically, no.”

“Tragically?” Hannibal inquired, a slight smirk twinging at his lips.

“My love life has been by and large disappointing,” Will laughed a bit, recalling his previous forays into romantic affairs.

“Romantically or physically?” Hannibal asked, his voice gentle as he played with Will’s hair.

“Both, I guess,” Will laughed a bit louder now, trailing his fingers in little circles at the water’s surface, “But mainly romantically. It’s been nothing short of tragic, honestly, and sort of embarrassing.”

“Tell me,” Hannibal planted a kiss at the crown of Will's head, and Will sighed again.

“People have a tendency to find me interesting when they first meet me, god knows why, but once they actually get to know me, they find that I’m not really all that interesting,” Will chuckled sadly, almost bitter, “And I find myself confused, because they showed so much effort at first, and once the interest wears away, they tend to stop. So, I’m left wondering where I went wrong, and throwing all of myself into them in the hopes of getting some of it back. It always left me feeling like I really just wasn’t worth the effort, so I just sort of… gave up. I stopped seeing people, I stopped entertaining the idea of romance. It’s not worth all of the heartache.” As Will trailed off, he left a violent silence in his wake that he felt a desperate need to fill. “That’s why I like spending time with Beverly so much. She’s not interested in me for sex, or for romance. She seems interested in me, for me. God knows if she’s interested in anyone for that,” Will laughed a bit, “But I can tend to tell what people want with me, and I tend to stay away in most cases.”

“And with me?” Hannibal murmured.

“I don’t know,” Will whispered, sinking deeper into Hannibal’s chest, “That’s why you scare me. I don’t think you’re interested in any surface level charm I may have, as there isn’t much. I don’t think you’re interested in me for my companionship,” Will paused, before smiling a bit to himself, “I think you want to watch me unravel.”

“Clever boy,” Hannibal chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in so long, but here's some (hopefully) good smutty smut for y'all. I'm relatively new at this, so I'm not sure if it's any good, please let me know what you think. Merry Christmas!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is uncomfortable with his feelings for Hannibal, and finds destructive outlets for it.

The week drudged slowly by, and Will found himself unable to stop thinking about Hannibal. Did his professor really care for him? Or was Will just some sick experiment to him. He couldn’t tell what Hannibal wanted from him, and that Friday, in class, Hannibal continued his usual touchy behavior, which only served to confuse him more. He found that he was frightened by his affection for Hannibal, which was only bolstered by their sexual encounter.

He loved the way Hannibal looked at him, as unnerved as it made him. The way Hannibal’s eyes followed him around the room, observing, poised as ever. He seemed to pick Will apart with each glance, stripping away all that he had to find what made him tick. He often imagined himself absconding to some far off villa in a foreign country with Hannibal, and spending their days wine drunk and in love. Of course, there was the fact that Will was nearly twenty years younger than Hannibal, and that Hannibal was his professor. That, in addition to the fact that it was extremely unlikely that the two would have a happy ending, made Will violently anxious.

At some point throughout their drunken night together, Alana had slipped her number into Will’s phone, which he discovered when he received a text from her in the middle of class. He pulled his phone from his pocket to check it, and read that she had invited him out with Beverly again that evening. He wondered why Beverly hadn’t asked him herself, and as he did so, Hannibal appeared to materialize behind him.

“Mr. Graham, unless it is an emergency, I suggest you return to your portrait study,” his voice was low and curt, bordering on dangerous.

Will shuddered a bit, before he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Yes, Professor,” he mustered, and Hannibal returned to his desk.

As class ended, he was yet again summoned to Hannibal’s desk, where he was invited to attend a sketching session at Hannibal’s home that evening.

“Sorry, I think I actually have plans tonight,” Will scratched the back of his head, apprehensive about spending more time alone with his professor. It would only lead to more uncomfortable questions, to which Will had no answers. Did he want a relationship? Had he fallen for Hannibal? Was he comfortable with everything that was happening, in spite of its morally dubious nature?

“Something to do with the text you received?” Hannibal cocked an eyebrow, and Will nodded.

“Yeah, actually, Beverly’s friend invited me out to a club tonight,” Will looked down a bit, uncomfortable telling Hannibal about his pathetic affair with Alana. Hannibal scoffed in spite of himself, causing Will to recoil.

“Do you disapprove?” Will asked, his voice biting, his brow furrowed.

Hannibal met Will’s glare, confident and cool as always. “Tell me, Will, what are this friend’s intentions with you? Do they simply desire your rough charms? Or simply your companionship for an evening.” His voice was cold, his expression unreadable.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s nothing good,” Will huffed, before turning on a heel and leaving the room.

~

“What the fuck is his deal!?” Will pawed frantically through his hair as he paced about his room, as Beverly did her makeup in his dusty mirror. She had come over to help Will get ready, but mainly to allow him to vent. “I mean, one second, he’s all fucking aloof, and the next second he’s getting pissy when I have plans.”

“I don’t think it’s the plans that are making him pissy,” Beverly said with a pop, as she applied her lip gloss. She tousled her hair a bit, before turning to face Will, “You know Alana would love to have sex with you. You’re her type. He’s jealous, he’s just too much of a petty bitch to say anything about it. Shockingly passive aggressive for someone who could literally be your grandfather.”

“Father at the oldest,” Will rolled his eyes, “He doesn’t know about Alana, though, so why does he have any reason to be jealous? It’s not like we’re together, he has no right to act like this.” Will nudged Beverly out of the way to adjust his hair in the mirror.

“Well, do you want to be?” Beverly asked, before she joined in fiddling with Will’s hair, smacking his hands out of the way.

“I don’t know,” Will sighed, “I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can’t stop thinking about him, but I don’t think it’s healthy.”

“Of course it’s not healthy,” Beverly laughed, “You clearly have daddy issues.”

“Shut up,” Will grumbled, before his shoulders slumped over in defeat, and he stood rubbing his face, thoroughly exhausted.

“Well, tonight will provide for an excellent distraction. As of right now, you’re not in a relationship, and you’re free to do whatever the fuck you want,” Beverly smiled at him, before brushing off his shoulders, “I didn’t do too bad of a job with your outfit today, if I do say so myself. You should really let me do your makeup sometime, you’d look even sexier than when I dress you.”

Will glanced over to Beverly, who stood slightly taller than him in her platform heels, “If I say yes, do you promise to stop asking?” he asked, willing to entertain her antics due to his worn down state.

“I promise!” Beverly squealed, rushing over to his desk to grab her makeup bag, pulling Will along and shoving him into the chair.

“Nothing too dramatic,” Will laughed, his mood lightening a bit as Beverly dragged out a plethora of brushes and colors, “Or at least nothing too glittery.”

“No promises,” Beverly grinned, as she set out to work.

After nearly a half hour, Will was allowed to glance in the mirror, and found himself pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t exactly what one could call subtle, but it suited him nicely. Beneath his waterline and lower lashes was a bright, deep blue, which blended into a deep brown at the outer corner of his eye, and a bright, glittering white at the inner corner. He felt as though he were wearing an eye mask to a masquerade ball. He felt seductive, he felt powerful, he felt like someone who knew what he wanted.

“Well? Don’t leave me hanging,” Beverly tapped his forehead with a brush.

“Not quite subtle, but, it’ll do.”

“I knew you'd love it. Now, let’s go, Alana’s waiting.”

~

Alana met them on the street corner outside of the club, dressed in a deep blue, off the shoulder dress which hemmed midway down her thighs. She again pulled the pair into a hug, before turning to Will, a hand on his chest, “We match today,” she grinned.

“That we do,” Will nodded, doing his best to sound casual in spite of the knot of tension building in his chest.

“Now,” Alana turned to face the two of them, “Would anyone be interested in some run-of-the-mill club drugs before we go in? It is a special occasion, after all.”

“What’s the occasion?” Will blinked.

“It’s Friday night!” she beamed, before producing a number of tablets in a bag from her purse. Beverly clapped her hands, thoroughly excited.

“I, for one, would love some club drugs. I think Will’s gonna abstain for the evening, though,” Beverly glanced up at Will, recalling their previous encounter with controlled substances.

Will knit his eyebrows together for a moment, wondering what Hannibal would think of him doing drugs with a woman he barely knew. He pictured the look of bemused condescending on his professor’s face, judging him. The pit of anger that welled up in Will’s chest made him act irrationally, this much he knew, however, in the moment he didn’t really care.

“What’s in them?” Will asked, as he reached towards the bag, trepidatious.

“Nothing too dangerous, I promise,” Alana winked, popping one in her mouth and letting it melt on her tongue. Alana’s intentions weren’t too hard to gauge, she wasn’t interested in what Will had to say, or really anything he did. She was interested in his companionship for the evening, and in that moment, it was the simplest option. Will accepted a tablet from Alana, and tossed it into his mouth.

“I’ll make sure you don’t die,” Beverly clapped his shoulder, before ingesting her own.

“I certainly hope so,” Will mumbled, as Alana took them by the hand and led them into the crush of people.

~

Everything felt rather rapturous, and much less uncomfortable than it had the previous time he’d attended. The pulsating music took hold of him, and the flashing lights were nearly too intense. Everything appeared magnified, and the warm throng of bodies felt nearly orgasmic as they crushed and bumped against his skin. He and Beverly danced together, their bodies intertwined with one another. They had lost sight of Alana, but neither of them could quite bring themselves to care.

Thoroughly inebriated, they writhed in the winding snakepit of arms, enjoying the violent sensations that accosted them each moment. For a moment, Will transcended the bounds of the earth, and slipped to somewhere a bit further beyond. He could feel the reverberations of the music in the tips of his fingers, altering his body chemistry, his very heartbeat. Will placed his hands on the hips of his compatriot, as the faces of the crowd blurred into one. They swayed with one another, euphoric. They erupted into giggles, only to be enveloped by the cacophonous surroundings, damned to inaudibility.

In a moment, though, he became lost. He found himself alone, and he quickly realized he was far too high. He trembled slightly, feeling less delighted than delirious and disoriented. Clammy terror clung to the back of his neck in a cool sweat, until he felt a hand on his cheek.

“There you are,” Hannibal murmured, pulling him close.

Will quickly recoiled, springing away from him, “Why are you here?” Will muttered, his voice catching in his throat. Somehow, his silent exhalation was louder than the music, louder than the cheers and cries of those surrounding him.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Hannibal smiled a bit, attempting to grasp Will’s waist as he shouldered his way through the crowd in an attempt to escape. “You called me, and I was worried. What are you doing here, Will?”

Not tonight. Not now.

“Wait, please,” Hannibal called after him, finally catching Will’s arm. He turned around, tears smattering his cheeks, charcoal streaks running down his face.

“What do you want from me?” Will whimpered, his mind entirely fried. 

“I love you,” Hannibal whispered, wrapping his arms around Will and pressing his forehead to Will’s. He shook his head, teardrops landing with a deafening splash on the floor.

“I don’t believe you,” Will cried gently, “I don’t want you here.”

“I love you,” Hannibal repeated, “I’ve loved you since the day I first met you, and I’ll love you until the day I die. You’re the only one, Will, no matter what I do, I can’t get you off my mind. I love you,” he continued, repeating himself, until Will shook so violently that he screamed.

Will shoved him against the wall, “Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m yours,” Hannibal gazed at him, his eyes so woeful, so hopeful, that Will’s heart shattered, “I’m all yours. Do with me as you wish, my heart is in your hands.”

Will collapsed into his chest, wailing, and he wrapped his arms around him and stroked his hair.

“You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmured, pulling Will into a tear soaked kiss.

“This isn’t sustainable,” Will whispered, breathless. He responded with a kiss, pulling Will’s waist close to his. “This won’t end well.”

“Maybe,” Hannibal breathed, “Maybe we’re destined to be a tragedy. I can’t stay away from you one moment longer, or else I’ll die.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

~

Will found himself tangled in Alana’s bedsheets sometime later that evening, breathless and matted in sweat. There was no denying that she was beautiful, her raven curls cascading in waves as she tossed them over her shoulder, leaning down to kiss Will. Will lay on the bed, the sensation of Alana’s soft thighs wrapped around him more than he could bear. She clawed gently at his chest, circling her hips in a hypnotic rhythm as she rode him. He was utterly mesmerized by her. He found himself focusing on her eyes, and how appallingly bright they were.

His fingers dug into the delicate flesh of her waist as her moans pulled him out of his reverie. Will licked his fingers and rubbed her clit slowly at first, then quicker as she neared her finish. Her back arched, her breasts bouncing as she bobbed up and down on top of him.

“Oh god, Will,” she cried, tossing her head back in ecstasy.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, bucking his hips up and thrusting into her. She clenched her thighs around him and grasped his shoulders harshly, crying out as she came, clenching around Will. She collapsed onto Will’s chest as he continued to fuck her, finding himself unable to cum.

He shut his eyes, and quickly found himself imagining Hannibal watching him, telling him he looked beautiful, in spite of how horrid he was being. “Fuck,” he grunted, quickening his pace as Alana panted on top of him. He imagined Hannibal’s fucking him slowly, in methodical, maddening thrusts, making Will’s stomach clench as he begged for more. Hannibal would take Will’s face in his hands, and press his forehead against his student’s. _“You are magnificent,”_ he would murmur into Will’s ear, and Will would moan for more, more praise, more pleasure, more of Hannibal, _“I love you, Will.”_ His toes curled, and he gripped Alana’s waist roughly, his pace growing sloppy, his thrusts erratic as he came. Alana rolled off of him, quite pleased with herself, and Will called himself a cab home, knowing that Hannibal could never love him, not after what he did. Maybe that was alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can y'all tell I've been watching way too much Euphoria? Because I've been watching way too much Euphoria. If you've seen it, you'll know this chapter was ~heavily~ inspired by the club scene in s1e7. I hope you guys enjoyed it, hopefully I'll be posting more regularly these days now that I'm on break. Let me know what y'all think!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy! I'm fairly new to this, and I've never posted a fic before, so please let me know what you think of it! (I accidentally deleted my original end notes because I'm an idiot when it comes to this website.)


End file.
